


UNIT: Haunted

by vvj5 (lost_spook)



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Awesome Liz Shaw, Case Fic, Gen, Ghosts, UNIT, With a brief cameo from Three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7912072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/vvj5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liz and the Brigadier investigate a haunted thinktank without the aid of a Time Lord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	UNIT: Haunted

**Author's Note:**

> Set between The Silurians and Ambassadors from Death (hence the Doctor being AWOL).
> 
> Originally written in 2008. I have done a brief edit to catch some of my most typical errors, but otherwise it's as posted on Teaspoon back in the day.

“Where’s the Doctor?”

Liz Shaw looked up from carefully arranging a series of test tubes in a holder on the workbench to see the Brigadier watching her. She shrugged. “He’s busy with something somewhere else.”

“Just when we needed him,” concluded UNIT’s commanding officer in irritation. “Ah, well. When will he be back?”

She finished sealing the last test tube and gave him her full attention, still with that mocking expression on her face she had worn ever since she had been summoned to join UNIT. No, that wasn’t right. She’d had a decided look of annoyance that first morning, as he recalled. “Perhaps I can be of help, Brigadier? After all, I was originally supposed to be here as your scientific advisor. I may not be the Doctor, but I’m not completely ignorant.”

“Of course.” She delighted in wrong-footing him and he should have seen that one coming. He had, as a matter of fact, been about to request her help. He decided that it was his turn to surprise her. “I’m aware of that. Miss Shaw, if you would accompany me, we have an appointment at a haunted house.”

Her eyebrows rose and she was trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry?”

“I think you heard me, Miss Shaw. Let me know when you’re ready.”

 

“A haunted house?” she asked him later, as he drove. “You really can’t be serious this time.”

He allowed himself a small smile. “Unfortunately, Miss Shaw, I am. A group of our most brilliant minds have been meeting together at a secret location in order to perfect an important project. However, their efforts have been brought to a halt by a rather determined spectre.”

“But you don’t believe in ghosts, surely?”

“No,” he agreed. “However, a spectre that has been seen by so many of our most eminent thinkers, as well as the staff, cannot be ignored – especially when it conveniently appears at exactly the worst moments to disrupt the work.”

Liz frowned. “It must be a hoax of some kind.”

“Well, that’s what you should be able to tell me,” he said, glancing briefly in her direction. Her customary amused expression had been replaced by a more puzzled one. “And if it is genuine, then perhaps we are looking at alien interference, rather than a foreign power or pressure group.”

“I see.” She gazed at the road ahead thoughtfully. “Why didn’t they just move to a new location?”

He smiled to himself again. “They did.”

“So it’s the conference that’s being haunted and not the house?”

He nodded.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard!” she said. “I thought creatures from out of space were bad enough. This apparition followed them?”

“Indeed.” He turned the wheel as they headed round the corner of a country lane. “That’s what I said when they told me. However, it is odd and nobody’s been able to come up with a logical explanation.”

Liz shook her head. “Maybe they’re all in on it.”

“Not impossible, although a little unlikely,” said the Brigadier, as if he had not just suggested that a top-secret government project was being haunted. “I shall be talking to all those involved, I can assure you.”

Liz sighed. “And what do I do? Hide under the stairs and wait till after midnight when the grey lady comes floating down the stairs?”

“As I understand it,” said the Brigadier, “she doesn’t wait until it’s dark.”

 

Liz found that she had heard of several of the guests, once the Brigadier presented her with a typed list, and she headed off in search of Doctor Alison Henry, a Physicist she had met once before at a conference.

“Dr Henry,” she greeted her. “I don’t know if you remember me –”

She was a large, middle-aged woman with dark, greying curly hair and a comfortably plump figure, the sort of person one might expect to find standing in the queue at the grocer’s, discussing the terrible weather and the price of potatoes. “Of course I do. Elizabeth Short, wasn’t it?”

“Shaw,” Liz corrected her. “I don’t like to interrupt if you’re doing anything important, but could I possibly have a word with you about this – this ghost.”

She had expected Dr Henry to laugh in her face, but instead the woman gripped Liz’s arm and leaned in towards her. “I should look for a rational solution, shouldn’t I? But we’ve tried all we can think of and still she appears, screaming till it would curdle the blood of any sceptic. I think it may be a judgement on us – that perhaps this work should never have been started and certainly should not be completed. That’s why she won’t allow us.”

Liz stared back at her, startled that someone she had looked up to until now was talking as if she subscribed to all this superstition.

“I’m sorry,” Dr Henry said, catching the look and colouring. “When you’ve seen her, you’ll understand why it’s getting to me. You’ll have to forgive me, my dear. If they’d only let us all go home in the mean time, I’m sure I could put it to one side, but they insist we stay until they have uncovered the truth of it.”

Liz bit her lip, finding it surprisingly easy to lose some of her own certainty in the face of the other woman’s fear. “Perhaps as an outsider, I can bring a fresh perspective? And if it is the work of someone else here, I’m sure the Brigadier and his men will be doing all they can to find them out.”

Alison Henry laughed. “Plodding soldiers – what do they know?”

Another startling discovery was how irritated Liz felt by the same dismissal she had made on first being drafted into UNIT. “I think you’ll find that the Brigadier has had some experience of unusual happenings.”

“Has he now?” said Dr Henry with a certain amused interest that made Liz shift uncomfortably and wish she had left the issue alone.

On safer ground, Liz added, “And if we can’t, there’s always the Doctor, as soon as he gets back. He’s something of a genius when it comes to explaining the unexplained.”

“Oh? The Doctor? Who’s he?”

Liz smiled, her eyes dancing. “You really wouldn’t believe me!”

“Hmm,” Dr Henry said and brightened. “Things are beginning to sound a little intriguing. What exactly have you become involved in?”

Liz reflected that that was the question she should have asked Dr Henry.

 

The Brigadier was mid-way through his scheduled interview with the head of the project, Sir Dennis Thomson. He had guessed that this might be difficult. Now, he felt that to be a considerable understatement. 

“I want to be perfectly clear,” snapped the irate balding little man in the tired brown suit, “that I did not send for you, nor am I pleased to have another disruption to my vital work here.”

The Brigadier was used to hostile receptions and he merely said politely, “I hope that we can rid you of your main problem and you should then be able to proceed with the project undisturbed.”

“It’s a conspiracy!” Sir Dennis spat. “I’ve managed to get a little more work done to the adjustment of the plans this morning without any ridiculous apparitions upsetting the credulous and now a truckload of soldiers turn up and I’m told everything must be put on hold yet again! If people would only think logically, there would be no need for any of this fuss!”

The Brigadier ploughed on regardless. “What is your explanation for the spectre?”

“Spectre!” shot back Sir Dennis. “It’s impossible. There are no such things and you would think the supposedly intelligent group in this house would be able to accept that and carry on, despite some fool’s attempt to sabotage my project!”

The Brigadier folded his arms. “Sabotage. Do you suspect anyone in particular?”

“Well,” Sir Dennis said, calming a little and drawing back from his vehement accusations. “I couldn’t have said why, but that fellow Carpenter has been a bundle of nerves since the whole thing started. Clearly, he’s got something on his mind. I’ve cornered him several times, but he admits nothing.”

“Oh?”

“Says his doubts have been over the ethics of the situation from the beginning, but he’s done nothing more obstructive than to file a report and make some suggestions for amendments to the – the project. And I have to admit, that is certainly the case. Some of his suggestions were quite bright. He’s one of the best of the new generation, but he’s going to pieces. I swear it must be him.”

The Brigadier knew better than to risk a smile, but he could hear the edge of doubt in the other man’s voice. “But you’re not sure?”

“No.” Sir Dennis deflated a little. “He’s weak, Brigadier. Wavers one way and another but hasn’t the gumption to do something about it. Somehow I’m not convinced he’d come up with something this violent in nature, nor that he would have the strength of character to refute my accusations. Still, he is the only one who would have reason.”

The Brigadier considered this. “You said violent?”

“Good grief, man, I’d assumed someone would have acquainted you with the facts before they foisted you onto us! Objects getting flung about the room – and that time Oslo was nearly thrown down the stairs. It’s only a matter of time before someone is seriously hurt if this joker continues!”

The Brigadier raised an eyebrow. “Then I’m rather surprised, Sir Dennis, that you don’t think the matter warrants investigation.”

“Well, yes,” Sir Dennis acknowledged sulkily, “but not right now – and not the army! This requires a sensitive approach, not lumbering idiots in boots stamping all over such a delicate matter.”

The Brigadier remained po-faced. “I’m sorry to hear that, Sir Dennis. However, we at UNIT do have some experience of the unexplained – and I do understand the meaning of discretion. I think perhaps I should introduce you to our scientific adviser, who will of course, be undertaking the more ‘sensitive’ part of the investigation.”

“I see,” Sir Dennis said, a little mollified as he reached for his pipe. “I hope you didn’t take offence? Nothing personal you understand, but I can’t abide the military.”

The Brigadier kept his thoughts to himself and merely said, “I must introduce you to Miss Shaw. You may be relieved to hear that she shares your opinion.”

 

Liz had asked Dr Henry whether the ghost had a tendency to appear in any particular part of the building.

“That _would_ be convenient,” Dr Henry said, almost wistful. “We could avoid it if that were the case. No, it can appear anywhere. I myself have been fairly fortunate so far, but Geraldine Hunter found it in her bedroom just as she turned the lights out. She left as soon as she could after that. I suppose it has appeared in the workroom and the hallway more than any other spot, but there are no guarantees. Perhaps you can see why we are all becoming so alarmed?”

She nodded thoughtfully. “If it’s a hoax, it’s a clever one.”

“It’s not a hoax,” said a new voice, as a tall, young man entered the room. Liz noted that he looked as if he hadn’t slept for days, dark shadows under his eyes and his hands were visibly trembling as he spoke. He was too thin for his height, which accentuated his obvious nerves. “It’s a judgement on us all. Once you’ve seen it, you won’t ask that question. A hoax!” He laughed hollowly.

Liz moved over to him. “I’m Liz Shaw, here with UNIT. And you are?”

“Stephen Carpenter,” he said, sounding a little more normal. “I’m sorry. You must be thinking we sound like the credulous locals in a Victorian ghost story, but if you’re unlucky enough to see for yourself, I think you’ll begin to understand.”

She shook his hand and smiled at him. “I can tell that something out of the ordinary is going on. And I’ve seen enough odd things lately to accept that you may be right. That doesn’t mean that we can’t put a stop to it, though.”

“My dear girl, I don’t think –”

Liz ignored the unthinking patronising words. “Whatever it is, natural, unnatural or otherwise, there’s a cause for everything. If we can find out what that is, we should be able to do something about it, don’t you agree?”

“In theory,” Carpenter said glumly and offered her a cigarette, which she refused, before lighting up himself. “In practice, I’d be running from her in terror if they only hadn’t surrounded the place with Tommies with guns. As you’ll have gathered by now, I’m a damned coward.”

Liz said, with determination, “I promise you, I’m going to do my best to find out what’s causing this. And if I can’t, I know an expert who can!”

“She has a mysterious Doctor friend who’s something of a genius,” Alison told Stephen. “I’m hoping we have to call him in from the little she’s said.”

Liz decided it was time to direct the conversation back to the business in hand. “There are some items that might be useful, if you don’t mind. Did someone say there was a laboratory here?”

“Several,” answered Stephen. “What was it you needed?”

Liz smiled at him again. “If you’ll show me the way, I’ll tell you.”

 

The Brigadier and Sir Dennis arrived in the sitting room to find Alison Henry reading a novel. She put down _Footsteps in the Dark_ as they arrived with a wish uttered aloud that something as simple was happening in this case.

“Ah,” said the Brigadier. “Excuse me, ma’am, but do you know where Miss Shaw has got to?”

Sir Dennis became even more irritated. “Really, Brigadier, if you can’t keep track of your own staff, I don’t know what hope you think you have of dealing with mine!”

“Dennis!” said Alison Henry, now sounding as well as looking the picture of a strict nursery teacher. “Don’t be so rude to your guests!” She turned to the Brigadier with a smile and offered him a large, warm hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir. If you can do anything about our troubles here, we’ll all be grateful, even Dennis.”

Sir Dennis muttered something under his breath.

 

“Why did you say it was a judgement?” asked Liz. “Dr Henry said something like that as well. I understand that you’re limited as to what you can reveal about the project, but I’m guessing that it’s a new weapon.”

Carpenter flushed a vivid red. “Not precisely, and you’re right – I really couldn’t say. Wouldn’t be on. You’d have to ask Sir Dennis. He and I may not see eye to eye, but it’s his baby. Suppose you thought a wreck like me would be an easy target –?”

“No, of course not,” said Liz, equally embarrassed. “I’m only trying to find out what’s going on here. It’ll be difficult to do that without mentioning your work at all.”

They were just about to climb the central staircase, Carpenter ahead of Liz, when the air turned so cold that it robbed her of breath and she looked up to see the famous spectre descending towards them.

It had a vaguely feminine figure, shaped as if it were draped in robes, silvery in appearance and slightly out of focus – as if it were a picture made out of fuzzy dots. But its eyes were dark and more real than anything else she had seen – wide wells of terror, she thought fancifully. It shrieked, the sound so piercing that Liz had to clap her hands to her ears, and as it did so, she and Carpenter were both knocked off their feet by a violent gust of wind. Somewhere behind them in the hallway, the phone was flung against the opposite wall, making a small pathetic ‘ding’ as it fell to the ground.

Liz tried to keep her head, to make mental notes and observe carefully as a scientist should do, but it was impossible. The creature tugged at her emotions – pity and fear mingled to begin with and then a mounting terror of her own as it became impossible to think or see anything but the ghost. 

In front of her, it was dissolving, layers of silvery skins melting away and it screamed again in terrible pain, the sound echoing through her and turning her whole world dark.

 

Inside the sitting room, they heard the scream. The Brigadier started and drew his gun. “What the blazes is that?”

“Oh, not again!” snapped Sir Dennis, turning an apoplectic red. “That’s all we need!”

The Brigadier glanced from one to the other. “Your ghost, I presume, then.” 

He raced for the hallway.

 

It was silent, but it still seemed to be dark. Liz struggled to regain possession of herself, trying to breathe evenly and tell herself that it must be over, but irrationality prevailed. She felt as if she had woken from a nightmare only to find the fear it produced still gripping its claws into her.

She tried to focus and thought she could see the legs of a small table beside her and there was a sound from somewhere –

 

“It’s Carpenter,” said Alison, who had followed the Brigadier. She moved across to the figure lying still beside the stairs, eyes closed, his sandy hair contrasting against the black and white mosaic of the floor. Then she hesitated. “Oh, I don’t want to look!”

The Brigadier said nothing about her squeamishness, merely crossing to join her and examine the unfortunate young scientist. Then he glanced at her. “He’s alive, probably just stunned himself falling, but you should phone for an ambulance.”

Sir Dennis was standing by the front door, holding up the remains of the telephone. “If only we could.”

“You had a phone in your office,” said the Brigadier, turning. “I suggest you use it!”

For once Sir Dennis didn’t argue and merely headed off down the corridor.

“He was with Liz,” said Alison suddenly. “Where is she?”

The Brigadier turned back to her. “I’m sorry?”

“Liz Shaw,” she said, more clearly as she knelt by Stephen. 

He glanced up the stairway in concern and then back around the apparently empty hall. “Miss Shaw?”

 

“Miss Shaw?”

Liz heard properly this time and recognised his voice. That helped. Despite all that she had seen at UNIT, it was still hard to associate the supernatural and aliens with the Brigadier and the fear subsided at last.

She shook herself and realised that she was pressed against the wall in a corner of the hallway, a small table with a vase of flowers on it to one side of her. And, coming around the side of the stairs, was the Brigadier.

“I’m all right,” she tried to say, but it was still hard to speak and she thought afterwards, that it must have come out as a sort of strangled squeak.

He reached her. “Are you hurt, Miss Shaw?”

She decided not to risk talking again just yet and shook her head. 

The Brigadier gave her an odd look and she began to realise that she must make a strange sight, huddled in a corner, too terrified to speak and still insisting that nothing was wrong. She breathed out properly and wished that the Doctor was here. He’d probably have had a ‘perfectly simple’ explanation for the ghost already and she could have used that right now.

“Can you stand?” he asked, crouching down beside her.

She forced herself to regain something of her usual composure and nodded. “I’m s-sorry. It must have been the shock. It –” She remembered a little more of what had happened and turned to him in alarm. “Is Carpenter all right?”

“I’m not sure,” said the Brigadier, not stooping to any comforting lies as he helped her to her feet. “However, he’s alive and Sir Dennis is phoning for an ambulance. Perhaps I should send you with them when they come?”

Despite still feeling more shaken than she could remember, even since joining UNIT, she shook her head again. “No. I am all right, really. It was just –” To her annoyance, she couldn’t keep back a shiver at the memory. What had it been? Like the members of the project, she was not prepared to dismiss it as a hoax, but she remained stubbornly sceptical about ghosts.

“I’ll get you a brandy,” the Brigadier offered.

Alison Henry looked up from where she was still sitting next to Stephen. “I think he’s coming round, Brigadier.”

“Good,” the Brigadier said distractedly, glancing back at Liz.

Dr Henry got to her feet, careful not to move Stephen. “Perhaps a cup of tea would be better?”

“Yes, please,” said Liz, relieved.

 

The Brigadier had shouted for one of his men. Sergeant Benton had arrived and been given orders to fetch a blanket and make a cup of tea while Dr Henry kept an eye on Carpenter and waited for the ambulance. He looked a little crestfallen at his humble mission, but departed cheerfully enough to complete it.

Lethbridge-Stewart ushered Liz back into the sitting room and waited until she was provided with said tea and blanket before asking her what had happened out there.

“If you’re feeling up to it,” he added awkwardly, but she could see that he wanted the answers.

She felt foolish now that everything had all but returned to normal and shed the blanket, although still sipping gratefully at the tea. “I’m all right,” she said, for what seemed to be at least the tenth time. “I’m sorry. I should have kept my head, but –”

“I’ll take it as read that you’ve now seen the ghost for yourself,” he supplied dryly.

She managed a smile in return. “I have, and I can see why they’re so disturbed. I can’t believe it’s a projection or a hoax.” She floundered, wondering how to describe what had happened.

“I heard it scream,” he said matter-of-factly, “and I have to say that was blood-curdling enough.”

Liz again wished the Doctor was here, although it wasn’t as if he always listened properly to things either, but she was even less sure about describing this to the Brigadier, of all people. “It wasn’t so much the apparition itself as the effect it had on everything around it. I was literally incapable of feeling anything but fear and everything seemed to turn very cold and dark. It’s hard to explain, but it’s not somebody’s idea of a joke. It could be something alien. It certainly didn’t feel – right.”

She heard herself saying the words and wondered if she should give up her career in science if she was reduced to being entirely subjective and vague. All the same, she was prepared to follow her instincts every now and then.

“Hmm,” said the Brigadier. “I suppose I should continue questioning the rest of the team here.”

Liz cupped both of her hands around the mug of tea. “I’ve had a thought…”

 

The Brigadier had been about to leave, but now he glanced back at her questioningly.

“I think we need to know what this mysterious project is.”

He folded his arms. “Believe me, Miss Shaw, I did suggest that full information was essential to an investigation, but I was told in no uncertain terms to get rid of the ghost and leave the development of science to the experts.”

“We could ask Sir Dennis,” she suggested.

The Brigadier reflected on the little man’s peppery disposition. “I don’t think he’d tell us anything.”

“He might tell me,” she returned with a smile, the sparkle returning to her eyes. He was pleased to see it, not having been entirely convinced by her claims that she was perfectly well, but he was also wary.

“Might he?”

Her smile widened. “If I flatter him nicely and at least know something about his previous work… You see, Brigadier, I can’t help but think that if this isn’t a hoax –”

“I don’t mean to be unkind, but we haven’t proved that yet.”

“I know, but really, if anyone here is capable of coming up with anything that convincing, then they’ve moved beyond the study of science as I know it. Listen, isn’t it likely that there is something odd – possibly alien – here?”

“Alien?” He couldn’t resist it. “Are you the one suggesting extra-terrestrial involvement now?”

Liz sighed. “I think I am. Either that, or it is supernatural and I’m not prepared to accept that. And if it is, then surely it must be tied up with this terrible, top-secret invention that these people are so worried about? I could at least try. If that doesn’t work, I shall set up some equipment and try and record the apparition, but I’d rather not meet it again.”

“Of course,” he said. “We could call for the Doctor and send you home, Miss Shaw.”

She straightened in her chair. “You can send for the Doctor – I’m sure he would have a better idea about spectres from outer space – but I’m not going home. It must be the invention itself – it’s the only logical explanation.”

“Well,” he said, since it was a reasonable deduction in the circumstances, “I don’t suppose there’s anything to prevent you asking Sir Dennis.”

She looked satisfied. “And I did sign the official secrets act when I joined UNIT, after all.”

 

“I read your paper,” Liz said, sitting opposite Sir Dennis in his study and trying to muster up a suitable expression of admiration. “I have to say I was very impressed.”

He glanced at her with slight disdain. “Did you, Miss Shaw? You’ll have to tell me which paper – I have written a good many!”

“And your book,” she continued, despite his abrasive response. “I’m not sure many people would have gone as far as your conclusion, but it’s the sort of thinking we need if we are to progress.”

He looked at her properly and condescended to smile. “Well, I always say there’s no doing things by half-measures.”

Liz’s unruly sense of humour was nearly her undoing, as she looked at him and was unable to help thinking that the statement was ironic, coming from someone as short as Sir Dennis. “No,” she agreed solemnly.

They discussed his past work for a little longer, by the end of which time he was definitely softening. For Sir Dennis, that was not saying a great deal, but she decided to be optimistic. And she was wearing a very short skirt…

“I know I shouldn’t ask, but I’d love to know something of the theory behind whatever it is you’re working on now,” she tried. “I’d be fascinated – and it might even help my investigations here.”

He laughed at her. “Very nicely done, my dear, but I’d hardly be heading up this project if I was the sort to talk the first time any young lady fluttered her eyelashes at me. Was there anything else you wanted?”

 

Liz ended up outside the room, fuming. And she certainly hadn’t gone so far as to flutter her eyelashes at the objectionable little man, whatever he thought!

“Miss Shaw!”

She turned to see one of the UNIT men heading towards her.

“The Brigadier says you’re to join him in the main laboratory, Miss.”

“Oh, does he?” she returned, snappishly. “I suppose you’d better point me in the right direction or he’ll be having me court-martialled.”

 

She entered the centre’s main laboratory with some interest, despite her current annoyance with men in general and Sir Dennis and the Brigadier in particular. There might be some clues as to the nature of the work they were doing in here, no matter how well it had been tidied.

“Liz,” said Dr Henry, greeting her warmly. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Liz looked at her and the Brigadier, standing behind her and then at the small machine in the centre of the workbench, wires protruding from it and its workings left exposed – and at its heart a silvery substance that drew her attention immediately.

“What is that?” she asked, not really caring whether they thought she meant the substance, as she did, or the machine itself, or a demand for an explanation from the Brigadier who had let her waste a good hour trying to use flattery and feminine wiles on one of the most unlovable men she had ever met while he achieved the same end by simply asking Alison.

Dr Henry looked a little more uneasy now. “I don’t think we should go into details.”

“No,” said Liz, “but what exactly is _this_?” She pointed.

Dr Henry took a deep breath. “Oh, well, it’s no good going this far and drawing back before I’m of any use. That’s the new element Sir Dennis uncovered during his trip to the Americas. But how can it be that causing the trouble? The apparition has been seen all over the house – and this has never left the lab.”

“New element?” said Liz, a little more certainty creeping back into her voice. “Maybe you should tell us more.”

 

Outside the room, Liz looked at the Brigadier.

“That was uncalled for!” she said, rounding on him. “You used me to distract Sir Dennis while you had Dr Henry show you the whole thing! You – you’re insufferable!”

He went so far as to raise an eyebrow, but he was looking unforgivably amused by her outburst. “Miss Shaw, I can assure you it was nothing so deliberate. Dr Henry was disturbed by what had happened to that poor fellow downstairs and decided it was time to take action. It was, I admit, helpful to be able to assure her that Sir Dennis would be unlikely to arrive on the scene.”

“Oh!” said Liz, rendered speechless for the second time that day, this time with anger.

The Brigadier glanced at her. “I suppose Sir Dennis wasn’t as forthcoming.”

“You could say that.”

He smiled at her. “And now, if you could be so kind as to describe in layman’s terms what it was that you and Dr Henry were discussing in there…?”

 

“Apparently Sir Dennis came across this substance that an archaeologist friend of his had uncovered on a dig and wanted his opinion of. He couldn’t identify it and thought he’d discovered a new element. He also discovered that it had unusual conductive properties and had an idea of how to make use of it.”

“Hence the project,” the Brigadier said, to demonstrate that he was following the gist of it. “Go on.”

“The rest is just conjecture at the moment, although Alison and I did try a little experiment after you left us. It’s capable of picking up and transmitting thought waves. And when Carpenter had second thoughts about the project those fears started to manifest themselves as the ghost.”

“So the ghost was nothing more than a projection, after all?”

“The alien substance absorbed the emotion and transmitted it,” she clarified. “At least, that’s how it seems to have happened. And of course, the more the ghost appeared, the more fear and doubt there was in the group – plus the anger of sceptics like Sir Dennis – and the apparitions became worse and worse, even violent at times.”

The Brigadier looked at her. “How conclusive was your experiment?”

“Well, Alison and I both recalled our experiences with the spectre and we had a half-hearted appearance and the material certainly reacted to it.”

The Brigadier folded his arms. “You had better both run a series of tests, as I now have to inform Sir Dennis that the only way to end the haunting is to dismantle his precious project! I won’t be able to do that without absolute proof.”

“We’ll do what we can,” promised Liz. She felt that it served him right, after leaving her to Sir Dennis, while he got what they wanted painlessly from Alison. Then she relented. “Good luck.”

“Hmm,” he said and headed off for a long and difficult telephone conversation with a cabinet minister who could order the termination of the project if Sir Dennis objected. And knowing Sir Dennis, he was hardly likely to do anything else.

 

“I don’t believe I’m hearing this!” Sir Dennis looked from the Brigadier to Alison and then to Liz. “This is all spite and envy. Either that or it’s about money! It’s always cost-cutting and so-called ‘efficiencies’ with you people, isn’t it?”

The Brigadier took the papers from Dr Henry. “I believe that if you study this you can see that every time Miss Shaw and Dr Henry – indeed any of us – tried the experiment, we had the same result. I’m afraid it’s your marvellous new element that’s the root of all the trouble. You’ll never be able to complete your great work, Sir Dennis. I’m sorry, but at least we put an end to the ghost at the same time.”

“It’s superstition – bafflegab – nonsense!” he snapped. “Don’t show me the results of a made-up experiment! What is that supposed to prove? This is important work –”

Alison interrupted sternly, “Dennis. Stephen was almost killed today. We couldn’t carry on working on the project facing that kind of risk daily. And it would never be safe, unless the work could be produced by robots!”

“Robots!”

She folded her arms. “Dennis, I think if you pay attention to our results, you’ll see what we’re talking about. And you must admit that there was never any guarantee that this would be stable enough to work. It’s a set-back, but your initial idea did not include your discovery. We could return to that –”

He was turning so purple that even Alison had to stop, worried that he might explode or collapse.

“This is nothing but malicious interference,” he gasped out, glaring round at them all. “Who’s behind it? I am not having this!”

The Brigadier said coolly, “Sir Dennis, I’m afraid I have official orders to close down this research centre if you do not agree to hand over the material. And if you continued under the circumstances, you would be guilty of gross negligence.”

“You’ve got no choice,” said Alison with more sympathy than the two UNIT members felt for the defeated scientist. “Dennis, do as they ask before you end up in trouble.”

 

Outside his office, where they had left him with Dr Henry, Liz looked at the Brigadier. “You enjoyed that!”

“Miss Shaw?” he returned innocently.

She glanced back at the door. “I don’t like him myself, but he’s bound to be angry at things coming to an end like this. He’s lost his project, all the government money and support – this could damage his reputation.”

“It’s unfortunate,” said Lethbridge-Stewart, “but there it is.”

Liz had to laugh. “I have to admit, at least it couldn’t have happened to a nicer person!”

“We’d better see the material off the premises,” he said briskly. 

She folded her arms. “Yes, let’s take it back to the Doctor and see if it really is alien. I’m sure he’ll be able to tell at a glance.”

 

The silvery lump of pliable but rock-like material at the heart of Sir Dennis’s invention was sealed inside a lead container and taken back in the UNIT truck with the troops, while the Brigadier escorted Liz to his car.

“I’m sorry if you had such an unpleasant day, Miss Shaw,” said the Brigadier, starting up the engine. He glanced at his watch and then back at her. “I think at the very least, I owe you dinner.”

Liz smiled suddenly, realising that she had hardly eaten since she left this morning. A ghost had not done wonders for the staffing situation at the centre and the sandwiches they’d had for lunch had been bordering on inedible. Plus, she’d been scared out of her wits and flirted with Sir Dennis for no good reason. “Why not?” she said. He certainly owed her something after that.

The Brigadier and Liz drove away from the grand old house, leaving an altered place behind them. And while Sir Dennis’s wrath would shake the rooms for some time to come, the terrible apparitions were over at last.

 

The Doctor examined the lump of rock, turning it over. “Fascinating! I wonder how it came to be here? The chances must be remote that it would be discovered by someone who would have any idea how to use it.”

Liz was sitting on the workbench, watching him. “I don’t think Sir Dennis did, really. He’s always had a reckless and ruthless streak. You should read the last chapter of his book!”

“Well done, my dear,” he said and gave her a smile that disarmed her from taking affront. “You were quite right about the effects of trying to use it like that. I’ll dispose of it safely for you. Who’d have thought tinclavic would have been found so far from Hakol?”

She laughed and looked forward to telling the Brigadier that she had been right again.


End file.
